Track 7 n

The future has seen better days.
 Always, closed doors.
 Open old sores.
 Makeshift Holy Ghost,
 But I need more.
 It's fair enough to say that I am never walking back.
 Never going out.
 Never shaking hands with lifelessness.
 But I walk alone with you by my side.
 You've given me a thousand tries.
 Headlines.
 Half truths.
 Half life and it's half used.
 Golden hearts,
 Silver tongues,
 Slant rhymes and I might be the only one left.
 I found you in the fire but you claimed that it kept you warm.
 My whole though process is nothing more than what I say.
 I never understand the synchronization of a water down revolution.
 The death of a son.
 The death of a salesmen, the anointed one.
 So what is there left to say?
 Everyone's given up but
 I was born on a different day and
 I drink from a different cup.